


Collateral Damage

by Ihsan997



Category: Baldur's Gate, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Corruption, Deal with a Devil, Deception, Demon Deals, Demon Hunters, Demon Summoning, Demonic Possession, Family Secrets, Gen, Secrets, Small Towns, Twisted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24414619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihsan997/pseuds/Ihsan997
Summary: A traveler organizes a party of fellow soldiers of fortune in response to a plea from a remote village. The dark, twisted nature of small rural communities with people who’re too close to each other and too suspicious of outsiders comes to the fore as obvious lies are told, ugly truths are uncovered, and long-buried demonic influence buried beneath the barnyard soil crawls to the surface.This takes place roughly a decade prior to the events of Baldur’s Gate: Descent Into Avernus.





	Collateral Damage

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Dungeons and Dragons.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beholden to a fiendish outsider, the organizer of the group of adventurers reviews his plans.

Normanir sat on his log near the fire, watching his companions gradually nod off on their bedrolls. Like so many bands of adventurers before them, they’d scouted a nondescript clearing in the woods, building a nondescript campfire, setting nondescript wards and snares to guard them in their slumber. Being the only person possessing elven blood in their group, he’d volunteered to watch over the sleeping humans and halflings (and their horses), as he always did. On that particular quiet night, though, he tasked his familiar to take over his duty for him, leaving the vaguely impish bird to watch over his fellows as he slinked off into the bushes.

After two weeks of trekking southward along the Sword Coast, he’d finally found his companions in a deep enough sleep for him to feel safe performing the ritual he’d been thinking of every day. He only needed a few minutes, but he also needed absolute privacy for his brief tryst. Only when he’d moved out of earshot did he feel safe enough to sit down and recite the verses he needed to contact another plane; and only after a few minutes of waiting did he notice the air in front of him shimmer.

Very briefly, the mirage-like distortion in the air tickled his brain, afflicting him with a twinge of dizziness which disappeared after a few seconds. Slowly, motes of flame danced in the air, splitting and multiplying until they formed a ring around the shimmering distortion. The underbrush around the ring faded away, revealing the scorched landscape of a sandstone cave and two horns crowning a fiendish silhouette. The pit fiend regarded him for a few moments and waited until the two of them could hear each other for sure.

He bowed his head toward his patron, showing the formal deference she demanded. Rather than ordering him to lift his head again, she left him with his head down while she spoke. “You’re late,” Pyra said, her voice echoing distantly as if she spoke to him through a tunnel. “It’s much easier for you to reach out like this than for me to proactively scry your movements. I don’t have the time or effort to spare given what’s going on here.”

He could sense the irritation in her tone, a reaction he’d already gotten used to with the arch devil Zariel before she passed his contract along to Pyra. Unlike Zariel, however, Pyra had no other supplicants, and thus her attention was far more intrusive and insistent. “You know I would’ve contacted you earlier if it had been safe to do so,” he replied, avoiding the urge to sigh. Pyra’s persistence proved more persistent than he’d hoped, however.

“Then make the situation safe. Find the time. I’ve invested a considerable amount of power in you, and that power could be taken away - not necessarily by me - if you abscond.”

“I’d never abscond from our contract,” he protested. “You know that.”

“Stop the pedantry. Zariel gave us both a chance with this. Don’t even give the slightest impression that you aren’t taking your tasks seriously.” Pyra paused for a moment, running a hand over her hairless scalp in consternation. “Acknowledge that you’ve understood your lesson.”

A less mature man would have rolled his eyes, but Normanir took the unhelpful lesson in a stride. “I’ve understood and been properly warned, mistress.”

“And don’t you forget it. Now.” The pit fiend shifted her position, likely fumbling with one of her many activity logs used to prove her progress to Zariel. “Tell me where you’ve been. You met these wretches in your party at a roadside inn. You disappeared thereafter. I need to know what happened.”

Although she hadn’t instructed him to lift his head, he did so anyway to speak more comfortable. When she didn’t react, he assumed a more comfortable sitting position. “This strange little man I met with the other adventurers, Brummy, he talks a lot…most of what he says is irrelevant, but I’ve learned more about his hamlet. He claims that the demonic corruption isn’t total, but that it’s firmly entrenched after many years-“

Pyra waved her hand to interrupt him. “I know that. You already told me that. Tell me about his hamlet.”

“Yes, of course. It’s a small place, perhaps no more than fifty people, he says. We must travel further south along the coast, but not so far that we reach Trollbark Forest. I don’t think there’s even a road within two weeks - the road by that inn where he traveled to seek help is the closet. We’re talking about a very remote, very isolated place here. The locals are a mix of several families who emigrated there to flee crop failures elsewhere, and they’re likely illiterate.”

“Good. Good,” she said while listening to the details of the location. “They’ve obviously been fooled by some local charlatan, or even contacted directly by a demonologist seeking a foothold in my responsible territory on the Sword Coast.” The pit fiend paused and thought for a moment before changing the subject. “And the others? You said there were five of them who agreed to accompany you to stamp out any demonic corruption on Faerun. Can you use them as effective pawns?”

“I believe they can be useful, though they seem intent on forming a party of equals rather than following…” Normanir paused when she frowned, rethinking his choice of words. “They’ll willingly fight against demons and demon-worshippers, yes. They have too much good in them, but they understand the need for balance in the universe. I can push them toward our side.”

“That’s a start; that’s a good start. The most important thing is that they’re useful; if something is useful, then is must be used. If you’re certain that they’re valuable, then, and only then, should you nudge them toward the side of evil. You must never lose focus of your primary objective - not for the sake of a secondary objective.”

“Understood,” he replied too quickly, causing her to furrow her brow.

“No, it’s not understood,” she retorted, also too quickly. “There are many distractions which you must learn to overcome.”

“I understand, mistress. Converting them to the cause of evil would be an added bonus-“

“Or taking them as true companions. This is what you must understand. You’re mortal; you can’t convince me that you won’t be tempted by this. Not so early into my patronage. If you can persuade them to follow you loyally, then you will grow fond of their personalities. Don’t forget about, in the end, your secondary objective with any other mortals.”

As Pyra spoke, Normanir felt the light tug on the sympathetic leash between himself and his familiars. Although they couldn’t speak, the amorphous yet comprehensible message which they were sending were understood clearly. Once Pyra had finished speaking, he nodded back toward the camp, and she understood immediately.

“They’re rolling over too often,” he said of his travel companions.

She nodded to him. “You may go; maintain your cover. But you must strive harder to find the time for our meetings. You know how dire the consequences are for both of us if Zariel finds my patronage to be disappointing. I need to fill my records with as many details as possible.”

He held his fist over his heart and bowed his head again. “Your will be done. I’ll expunge demonic corruption from this place…by any means necessary,” he said, oblivious to the cliché foreshadowing in his own words.

By the time he raised his head again, Pyra’s image had simply disappeared along with the tingling sensation in his brain. Faintly, his ears picked up the sound of a bedroll’s fabric shifting, and he rose from his spot in the bushes. He had a façade to maintain, and a group of fellow travelers to mold.


End file.
